I hope at least some of you reading this are old enough to remember the Coaster's song, the title of which we're adopting for today. We've mentioned the neighborhood herd of yaks before in My Minnesota. They came about, I've heard, but can neither confirm nor deny, because of a difference of opinion between a neighbor and the assessor over whether the property was actually agricultural. Here's some (but not all) of them. I'm reasonably certain that these are the critters that were making
some of the local herd of yaks © harrington
the lowing sound I heard early in the morning a couple of days last week while I was seated under a tree pretending to yelp, putt and purr like a hen turkey. (The tom turkeys didn't think I sounded all that great either.) These pictures were taken with my iPhone. The yaks are never out by the road when I have my dslr along, but Hilaire Belloc has captured the yak nicely in his poem.
a closer view of the local herd of yaks © harrington
The Yak
As a friend to the children commend me the Yak.
You will find it exactly the thing:It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back,Or lead it about with a string.
The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Thibet(A desolate region of snow)Has for centuries made it a nursery pet,And surely the Tartar should know!
Then tell your papa where the Yak can be got,And if he is awfully richHe will buy you the creature—or else he will not.(I cannot be positive which.)
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Thanks for visiting. Come again when you can.
Please be kind to each other while you can.
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